In a quiet village nestled between misty, towering mountains, lived a boy named Zhing. From an early age, he was known more for his stumbles than his strength. While other boys climbed trees, raced through fields, and lifted heavy farming tools with ease, Zhing struggled with even the simplest tasks. At fifteen, he could barely lift a hoe without straining, and his attempts at running or sparring often ended in embarrassment. The other boys mocked him relentlessly, calling him "Zhing the Frail," and laughing whenever he tripped or dropped something. But Zhing had something they did not—patience, curiosity, and a